Life's Little Surprises
When my son was about six months old, I loathed my husband. At first glance I thought it was because I felt tied to my baby--having to nurse him every 2 hours (and for 40 minutes a pop), or that I hadn't slept for over an hour since he had been born, or the fact that I was still working a 40+ hour work week WITH my son at home with me the entire time and no extra help. Or maybe at first glance it was because I was still adjusting to being a mom, being woken up every morning at 5am, or the fact that my family seemed to notice that I was falling to pieces and no one was there to support me.
Or maybe it was just that my husband's life hadn't changed at all. I did change--yes, he was occasionally awoken from a dead sleep every week or so (which is not being woken up at all in a bleary-eyed sleep deprived mom who was still walking the stairs every 2 hours for a nursling)-- and yes, he did sometimes come home earlier from work to *help out*, and yes-- he took our son out for a day here and there so I could get some time to myself. So, his life did change-- but not the CORE of his routines.
He still was able to take his morning showers with no interruption. He could eat a full meal without a baby fussing to nurse. He could even run off to do an errand with little notice without breast pads for leaking breasts, a breast pump in tow, or worrying about how engorged he felt being gone away. And-- he had energy to spare.
I felt alone. Isolated. I was drugged of sleep deprivation. Dreading each day of work and mommyhood combined into one- but yet was told my family, friends, neighbors, anyone who asked- I had the best of both worlds. Huh? I was told, I could work AND be home with baby.
Yes. That was true and it was great. Looking back- I don't disagree. But no one understood the exhaustion. The juggling act. Or the concentration that requires. And it doesn't end at 5pm. You miss meeting and deadlines without middle of the night work sessions along side middle of the night nursing sessions. Did my husband know this? Did he have this juggling act? Did he know what it felt like to get up at midnight, 2am, 4am, and then 6am to nurse for 40 minutes a pop and then only roll over at 7am to turn on the computer- work and nurse all day long-- while trying to keep a house clean, a baby happy, and remain cheerful?
I am not dogging my husband. He tolerated me. I was a bear--still am at time--but he stuck with me. Not that the occasional argument didn't rear its ugly head.... in fact I heard more than once, "You are always tired. Always exhausted. Why can't you just be my wife again?"
Hell- I wish I could have been his wife again! It would have felt wonderful--in that instant. But now, I was a mommy too. A tired, ragged one he needed a shoulder to cry on. When my son was first born I had more than one breakdown. In the first 6 weeks my breasts were raw, engorged, and I was desperate for sleep (and less anxiety... Was the baby okay? Still breathing? Not rolling over?). I broke down over television commercials, dinner not cooking fast enough, and even for less apparent reasons to even myself (no reason at all). He supported me. Cooked for me. Went and got take-out. Cleaned. And even woke up the first few weeks to bring the baby to me to nurse. But after 2 - 3 weeks- this state ended. My husband was tired. He wanted his old life back- and could take parts of it back without abandoning the baby. And that he did. Then he went back to work. In an office- and normal routines ensued. For him.
My life was nothing but routine. Nursing. Diaper changes. Fits of crying from me and baby. Juggling phone calls. Dinner. Laundry. More nursing. And then- what happened with the me time? Where did it go? I couldn't even go bathroom without the baby crying to be nursed!
Now- with baby growing up to a whole 2 1/2 years old my life has become more normal- more like it used to be in some ways. I am still getting up at night to comfort the little one (he has yet to master a full night's sleep). I am still at his beckon call- but those calls are coming less frequent. And I still change diapers, feed him, and bath him more routinely than the husband.
BUT.... now I feel more like mommy and wife. And it helps when my husband notices.
Case in point- Friday I decided we need a date night. A true official date. Not a I-think-we-can-do-a-mantinee-Sunday-while son-sleeps-and-awakes-happy, let's call a sitter type date- but the, let's go to a movie at a normal night time showing and THEN go for drinks. And what about dinner beforehand? My God, I will feel normal! And that is what we did... Friday, promptly at 6pm (all right 6:10pm) the sitter arrived. We said our good-byes, pecking kisses on our little one's forehead and headed off to dinner. And a movie. And drinks and ice cream. And I felt normal. Happy. Even carefree.
The best part (and best surprise of the evening), even though I planned the entire event? My husband saying- right as the movie was about to start, "Thanks for doing this, honey. It is already perfect. And just was we needed."
Or maybe it was just that my husband's life hadn't changed at all. I did change--yes, he was occasionally awoken from a dead sleep every week or so (which is not being woken up at all in a bleary-eyed sleep deprived mom who was still walking the stairs every 2 hours for a nursling)-- and yes, he did sometimes come home earlier from work to *help out*, and yes-- he took our son out for a day here and there so I could get some time to myself. So, his life did change-- but not the CORE of his routines.
He still was able to take his morning showers with no interruption. He could eat a full meal without a baby fussing to nurse. He could even run off to do an errand with little notice without breast pads for leaking breasts, a breast pump in tow, or worrying about how engorged he felt being gone away. And-- he had energy to spare.
I felt alone. Isolated. I was drugged of sleep deprivation. Dreading each day of work and mommyhood combined into one- but yet was told my family, friends, neighbors, anyone who asked- I had the best of both worlds. Huh? I was told, I could work AND be home with baby.
Yes. That was true and it was great. Looking back- I don't disagree. But no one understood the exhaustion. The juggling act. Or the concentration that requires. And it doesn't end at 5pm. You miss meeting and deadlines without middle of the night work sessions along side middle of the night nursing sessions. Did my husband know this? Did he have this juggling act? Did he know what it felt like to get up at midnight, 2am, 4am, and then 6am to nurse for 40 minutes a pop and then only roll over at 7am to turn on the computer- work and nurse all day long-- while trying to keep a house clean, a baby happy, and remain cheerful?
I am not dogging my husband. He tolerated me. I was a bear--still am at time--but he stuck with me. Not that the occasional argument didn't rear its ugly head.... in fact I heard more than once, "You are always tired. Always exhausted. Why can't you just be my wife again?"
Hell- I wish I could have been his wife again! It would have felt wonderful--in that instant. But now, I was a mommy too. A tired, ragged one he needed a shoulder to cry on. When my son was first born I had more than one breakdown. In the first 6 weeks my breasts were raw, engorged, and I was desperate for sleep (and less anxiety... Was the baby okay? Still breathing? Not rolling over?). I broke down over television commercials, dinner not cooking fast enough, and even for less apparent reasons to even myself (no reason at all). He supported me. Cooked for me. Went and got take-out. Cleaned. And even woke up the first few weeks to bring the baby to me to nurse. But after 2 - 3 weeks- this state ended. My husband was tired. He wanted his old life back- and could take parts of it back without abandoning the baby. And that he did. Then he went back to work. In an office- and normal routines ensued. For him.
My life was nothing but routine. Nursing. Diaper changes. Fits of crying from me and baby. Juggling phone calls. Dinner. Laundry. More nursing. And then- what happened with the me time? Where did it go? I couldn't even go bathroom without the baby crying to be nursed!
Now- with baby growing up to a whole 2 1/2 years old my life has become more normal- more like it used to be in some ways. I am still getting up at night to comfort the little one (he has yet to master a full night's sleep). I am still at his beckon call- but those calls are coming less frequent. And I still change diapers, feed him, and bath him more routinely than the husband.
BUT.... now I feel more like mommy and wife. And it helps when my husband notices.
Case in point- Friday I decided we need a date night. A true official date. Not a I-think-we-can-do-a-mantinee-Sunday-while son-sleeps-and-awakes-happy, let's call a sitter type date- but the, let's go to a movie at a normal night time showing and THEN go for drinks. And what about dinner beforehand? My God, I will feel normal! And that is what we did... Friday, promptly at 6pm (all right 6:10pm) the sitter arrived. We said our good-byes, pecking kisses on our little one's forehead and headed off to dinner. And a movie. And drinks and ice cream. And I felt normal. Happy. Even carefree.
The best part (and best surprise of the evening), even though I planned the entire event? My husband saying- right as the movie was about to start, "Thanks for doing this, honey. It is already perfect. And just was we needed."
